When I think about No Limit Soldiers, I think about all the movies they were making. They all entrepreneurs. They were the rich black guys getting a lot of money.

Master P was one of the first rappers I seen with a basketball sneaker in Foot Locker. His whole house this was like Richie Rich, MTV Cribs: gold ceilings and all of that. Putting his son through Nickelodeon—Romeo had cars and shit when he was like 10. We ain’t never seen nothing like that.

They were selling CDs out the trunks of their cars—they really came from the bottom. They showed me I could do it too.

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This is not a skit—it’s a real conversation. Me and Chris Brown knew each other before the music. He used to live out in Harlem, but he was on already when I met him.

I was designing these belts. I would hit up my boys Kwasi and Mike D—who were stylists at the time—to get some of the artists’ budgets. I was like, “You got like $30,000 to spend on clothes, come cop some of these belts.”

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I was supposed to put Ashanti on this song. But I said a line about sideburns—Ashanti, I love your sideburns! I love girls with that Indian-like, silky, smooth, wavy sideburns. But Ashanti’s sister was like, “I want you to take that out.” I was like, “I’m not compromising my song. Fuck that.” Shoutout to Ashanti.

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I worked at the Ben & Jerry’s on 104th.

I used to give free ice cream to all the girls, cool dudes, my friends. I’d get complaints because I played loud rap music. I showed up late one time and I got fired. Matter of fact, they told me not to come in: “Stay home, don’t worry about it.” I’m like, “Hold on, they aren’t trying to hush me like that. Nah, I’m coming.”

I went in and my boss Joe was like, “You know we can’t do this anymore.” I got my last check and it was kind of a relief. I was like, “Yes! I can fucking leave this shit and I got an excuse to become A$AP Ferg.” So thank you, Joe.

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I always talk about both of my uncles. T-Ferg is the suave guy with hazel eyes, buff. He’s always with me. That’s my pop’s brother.

He went to jail for 15 years. When he came out he was trying to go back to the street. This was during the Juicy J tour—I was scraping the plate. But I had to figure out a way to get him out of the streets.

My pops died when he was in jail and my cousin died too. They didn’t even let him out of the jail cell. He took two losses back to back. He couldn’t even come to the funeral.

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I went on tour with Juicy J, but tour life was fucking wack as shit. Juicy J was living, he had the big-ass bus. We couldn’t afford that shit. We were grinding. It was a big tour for us, but we were pushing around in a Sprinter.

I used to sleep in itchy beds in broke-ass motels. Niggas were uncomfortable. Sometimes we slept in the sprinter, sometimes we slept in the motel. Niggas had little red dots on they back. It was crazy.

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